


The Memories We Make

by ThisOneGeek



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M Later on, Marauders' Era, Mostly T, Multi, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 10:59:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9545462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisOneGeek/pseuds/ThisOneGeek
Summary: Sirius is saved by Harry's remembrance of the mirror, but Hermione doesn't walk away unscathed. Finding a new ability, she is quickly put to the test as the war develops swiftly around her, allowing for chaos to rise from every avenue, until she eventually comes onto a collision course with time itself.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So first off, this was incredibly inspired by ShayaLonnie's Debt of Time (Which if you haven't read, I highly recommend it. Like, go-read-it-right-now-you-won't-regret-it, recommend it). But this will also be completely different from her story, just going off of the same concept (Time Travel, Marauders, Possibly a name similarity because I'm really bad at making up names), with a lot of my own personal weirdness and ideas set into it. I am also going to warn you right now, this will most likely have a pairing (i.e. the main one that I am not going to hint at as that would ruin some of the surprise and story building I want to do) that you will not like, but please have an open mind if you do decide to read. There's also torture (literally in the first line), plus possible other things (rape, etc) that you may not be okay with, and thus this is your warning. It's mostly a T fic, but it will get a little M at parts, so beware. Thank you, and happy crying. I mean reading. No, crying. (Also, constructive criticism is incredibly appreciated. Please and thank you.)

 

Hermione wished for death, and she didn’t even know why. Her skin felt as if it was tearing itself apart, ripping into pieces before being sewn back together, only to be shredded once more. Her nerves were fire, running through her body, burning pathways that looped and turned at every spot where she had never thought about pain ever occurring. Her muscles tensed, convulsed, and rubbed painfully against her bones and skin. Speaking of her bones, it felt like every single one was breaking, shattering to the winds before being pieced back together haphazardly, immediately disintegrating again. Her brain only had one thought, one emotion, one feeling, and that was pain. 

Her cries echoed across the small office, bathing her with her own blood-curdling scream, a faint laugh audible in the background, mocking her as the seconds of torture felt like days. The screams told her to give up. That death would be better. There was no pain in death, but there was no life either. And so she screamed, her throat burning every minute, gasping for the air it couldn’t breath, her lungs seemingly filled with acid from the lack of air. 

Hermione’s vision was fading, and quickly at that, before a large explosion penetrated her screams. A moment later, and a blast of red light, everything stopped, but the residual pain lingered. She coughed violently on the floor, her eyes opening slightly as she glanced across the room.

Pink littered the walls, with cats watching her, some of them shaking, much like she was, and others sneering as much as a cat could. On the floor next to her, lay a squat figure clad in pink as well, her toad-like features still, wand rolling slowly away from her as her eyes stared vacantly on, half opened, the ghost of her maniacal laugh etched onto her face. 

A tall figure leaned over Umbridge, his black hair hanging around his face as his hook nose stared down in distaste. His wand was gripped tightly in his hand, pointed directly at the crumpled pink figure, the tip practically glowing from his anger. The man propped up the toad before flicking his wand quickly, causing her to levitate. Moving swiftly, directing with his wand, he carried Umbridge out of Hermione’s sight.

A new figure, with messy black hair, a part sticking up in the back, stood over her, slowly moving her head to look straight up. Her tears changed course as they began to move downward once again, leaving most of her face wet. She groaned in pain as he propped her up, her vision going fuzzy for a moment until he set her down. 

Standing back, his face full of fury, was a figure with shocking red hair. He scurried over next to her, choosing the opposite side from Harry. He pushed a bit of hair out of her face, before drawing her into a gentle hug, which she sobbed deeply into. For a few moments, they stayed like that. For a few moments, it was okay.

But pain soon returned as Harry and Ron -- albeit as delicately as they could -- lifted her up gently, sharing her weight equally as they began to move out of the office, heading up the stairs. Her head lolled to the side, her eyes drooping closed, the pain and anguish finally surrounding her with darkness, pulling her quickly into the recesses of sleep.

 

* * *

 

**One Hour Earlier**

 

Harry’s head continued to spin from the vision he had seen just moments before. Sirius was in trouble, and it was up to Harry to save him. He’d already convinced Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Luna, and Neville to help him break into Umbridge’s office, albeit Hermione seemed rather reluctant. It bothered him that she thought there was another way, but there couldn’t be. He didn’t have time to sit around all day! Sirius was being tortured. It’s not like he had a way to contact him -- or did he? The memory barely hovered into recognition long enough for him to grasp onto it. 

 

_ Sirius had beckoned him to his side. _

_ “I want you to take this,” he said quietly, thrusting a badly wrapped package roughly the size of a paperback book into Harry’s hands. _

_ “What is it?” Harry asked. _

_ “A way of letting me know if Snape’s giving you a hard time. No, don’t open it here!” said Sirius, “I doubt Molly would approve -- but I want you to use it if you need me, all right?” _

 

Sirius had given him something. A way to contact him! Hope began to spread through Harry, setting his nerves practically on fire as they urged to dive into his trunk. He bolted up the  staircases, nearly forgetting to jump over the missing step as he skidded to a stop in front of the Fat Lady. Panting, he gave the password before barging into the common room, ignoring the many stares that were being directed at him.

He pushed past the door that lead to the dormitories, almost stumbling up the steps as he pulled himself into his dorm, rushing over to the first trunk he saw. He had just begun tearing it apart before he noticed that he’d sat at Neville’s. Apologizing to the empty air, he moved over to his trunk as he began to rummage frantically through it. 

Finally, he reached the bottom, where a poorly wrapped package lay nearly undisturbed. Correcting that quickly, he shredded the wrapping, pulling out a mirror, scanning the handwritten instructions quickly before flinging them onto his bed. 

“Sirius Black!” He practically cried into the old silver encircled mirror. His eyes frantically examined his reflection, shutting quickly as nothing changed.

“Harry Potter.” A voice called through the small object in his hand. Harry’s eyes fluttered open, looking on in awe at the figure, with long black hair and calm grey eyes, residing where Harry’s reflection should have. “Is everything alright?”

Harry raked a hand nervously through his hair, the jitters that had previously enveloped him slowly receding. “It is now.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Would you care to elaborate?”

“Not really, no.” Sirius narrowed his eyes at the young wizard. “Alright. I was taking my exam, and then I fell asleep.”

“I think your father did that once, too.” Sirius said, before shaking his head. “You were saying?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Well, as soon as I fell asleep, I saw you… but you were being tortured by Voldemort. Which thankfully you’re not!”

Sirius nodded in agreement. “I’m not one to be serious,” Harry raised an eyebrow, “but that could be disastrous, Harry. You can’t be having soirées inside Voldemort’s mind!”

“You make it sound like it’s something I’m actively trying to do!”

“Harry, we know you wanted to see behind that door! Snape told us about it after one of your Occlumency lessons.” Sirius countered. Harry muttered something along the lines of ‘git’, causing Sirius to chuckle. “I completely agree, but he is useful to the order, something I can’t say that I am right now.”

“I’m just happy that you’re not being tortured right now. And that I remembered the mirror.” Harry said, relief continuing to flush his system.

“How were you going to try and talk to me before, then?” Sirius asked.

Harry thought for a moment, before realization slapped him across the face. “Oh! We were going to break into Umbridge’s office so I could use the fireplace.”

Sirius’s eyes glimmered with pride, before his brows knit in confusion. “As much as I just loved hearing you say those words, you wouldn’t have been able to contact me. I’ve been up here treating Buckbeak the entire time.” He pointed at the disgruntled Hippogriff behind him. “He had quite a few cuts across his wings.”

“How’d that happen?”

Sirius shrugged. “I wouldn’t put it past Kreacher, but I haven’t seen him today But nevermind that. Don’t you have a break in to stop?”

“Right.” Harry nodded. “Thanks. I’ll call you back in a bit.”

“I’ll be here, and hopefully Dumbledore will have a solution to your vision by the time you get back.” Sirius said, waving before his image faded back to Harry’s reflection.

 

* * *

 

Harry had managed to stop the others before they could get too far into their plan, with his last stop being Hermione. Skidding to a halt, he took a few deep breaths next to the bushy-haired girl that stared at him in confusion.

“Where’s your knife?” She asked, her mind already working overtime as Harry took a few more lungfuls.

Harry waved his hand. “We--We’re not going in anymore. Sirius is fine--”

“Wonderful!” She said, a smile instantly returning to her face. “How did you--”

“Hem-Hem” A familiar voice sounded from just behind Hermione. Harry could already see the pink and the toad like features before she stood next to Hermione, causing him to freeze. He could already tell this was not going to go well. “Unless I’m mistaken, Mister Potter, I heard you say you were going ‘in’.” She put a grubby hand onto Hermione’s shoulder, who looked instantaneously horrified. “Where would ‘in’ be?”

“Nowhere, Professor.” Harry said, his eyes narrowing to mere slits.

Umbridge made a throaty giggle. “‘Nowhere’, you say?” She moved further past Hermione. “And what does this ‘nowhere’ have to do with one Sirius Black?” The pink was absolutely blinding. 

“I don’t know what you’re referring to, Professor.” His patience was wearing incredibly thin, perhaps due to being in such a close proximity to the irritating woman.

“Then why are you standing directly outside of my office door?” Her smile showed perfect teeth, each one gleaming with an unprecedented malice. 

“Is it a crime to stand around?” Harry snapped, realizing the mistake he’d made just a second too late.

Umbridge’s eyes turned cold, a hungry light glowing menacingly from each one. “Detention, Potter.”

“NO!” Hermione cried, causing both heads to turn directly at her. Harry was shocked, to say the least. 

The toad clearly had a new victim, as her smile spread to her ears, her fingers twitching near where she held her wand. “Are you offering to take Mister Potter’s place, Miss Granger?”

Harry frantically shook her head, trying to persuade Hermione out of it. Something in Umbridge seemed to have snapped, and he wasn’t going to allow her anywhere near his friends if he could help it. 

But Hermione nodded, and before Harry could even blink, she was wrenched into the office, the door slamming abruptly as Umbridge began to reach for her wand.

 

* * *

 

Ron had been walking out of the dormitory before all he could see was a messy head of black, and then the wooden floor beneath him. The wind was sufficiently knocked out of him, and so he took a few deep breaths before glancing curiously at the rushing figure. 

“Harry, mate, what’s going on?” Ron asked, getting to his feet as the other wizard began rummaging through his own trunk. “Harry?”

Green eyes barely looked back before turning away swiftly, standing with two items: an ornate mirror, and his invisibility cloak. “I’ll explain on the way.” He pulled the cloak over his head before lifting it up. “You coming under, or not?” 

Ron nodded, albeit more out of curiosity than concern, which was also a heavily present emotion at the time. He pulled himself under the cloak, ducking a bit so their disembodied feet wouldn’t show and scare the first-years. The two walked quickly -- as quickly as two fifth-year Hogwarts students could walk under one cloak -- down the steps into the common room, before sneaking out the portrait hole. 

“Sirius Black!” Harry called into the mirror, causing Ron to warily raise his brow, before shock melted over his face as the face of one Sirius Black replaced where Harry’s reflection had sat just before. 

“What’s the matter now, Harry?” Sirius asked, his expression showing a bit of outer stress. 

“I’d like to know that too, actually.” Ron added, looking between his best friend and the mirror. 

Harry pulled Ron down a corner, practically pulling him down the hall. “Umbridge took Hermione into detention.”

“Our Hermione?” Said Ron, stupefied. 

“Umbridge was about to give me detention, but Hermione stepped in.” Harry looked on the verge of panic. “But something was off. The toad looked like she wasn’t just going to use a blood quill. I’m pretty sure she was pulling out her wand before the door even slammed shut.”

Sirius’s face hardened. “I’ll see if I can get a message to Snape.”

“Not to worry about that, Sirius.” Another familiar voice said calmly from the mirror. “I have already sent a message. He should be there shortly.” Dumbledore stepped into the frame of the mirror. “But I would advise you two to continue on your path towards Miss Granger. If fate decides to work in its cruel ways, you two will have to retrieve her if any damage has been done before Severus can arrive.”

Harry nodded. “I can try to get into her office. I still have your knife.”

“And what knife would this be, Sirius?” Dumbledore asked, an amused twinkle in his eyes.

Sirius grimaced. “Harry, Ron, you two need to get--” 

Ron and and Harry fell to the ground as did another figure moving swiftly from an adjoining hallway. Barely grasping the mirror before it fell to the ground, Ron quickly pulled himself and Harry to a standing position to stare at the figure who had blocked their path. 

His nose stuck out in displeasure at them, before he swiftly marched in the same direction to two students had been heading. “Potter, Weasley.” He said, not giving a single glance back.

“Professor.” Both boys responded with distaste, matching his stride. 

“You two are to not interfere, no matter what.” Snape said.

Ron glared at his greasy hair. “Why not?”

“As it seems that I will be rescuing Miss Granger, it would be foolish of either of you to be seen with me by Dolores.” He snapped, the length of his steps increasing. “I myself do not care, but there are others who will be pleased if you are allowed to remain at this school, Potter.”

Beside Ron, Harry was seething, but he muttered a rather strangled sounding agreement, mouthing a few other choice words along with it. The redhead was angry as well, and he continued to be wary of Snape. It would take nothing short of a miracle for either boy to trust him, especially with something so important as Hermione’s safety.

They stopped abruptly in front of the witch’s office, where Snape signalled for them to stay back, something they did begrudgingly. He slithered up to the door, listening as if the occupants within the room were talking in a whisper, whereas Ron could perfectly hear the conversation within.

“You will show me how to defend myself and destroy this weapon!” Umbridge audibly spat at the other girl within, who could be heard lightly crying, before she muttered something inaudible. “What was that, dear?”

“I said, I would ask you to put your wand away, so that I can teach you the theory in a risk free--” Hermione had been speaking calmly, before a loud slap rang out from the door.

“You wretched girl!” Umbridge screeched. “You filthy, dirty, little Mudblood!” The faces of all three wizards hardened into pure hatred. Ron was surprised by the look on Snape, having seen the same expression only sent towards Harry. “I’ll loosen your tongue! Yes… What the minister doesn’t know won’t hurt him… and he’d never believe you if he did find out. You filthy, little Mudblood!” Ron’s grip on his wand tightened, but he was suddenly shoved against the wall by seemingly no force at all. He growled as he saw Snape direct his wand away from the two struggling students. “ _ CRUCIO _ !” The spell dropped like a malicious pin into a silent room, until the room was no longer quiet.

Her screams tore at his soul, breaking it into pieces, an unimaginable pain grasping his heart as he roared in anger. Her screams shook with true pain, echoing off the walls, traveling throughout the castle. In an instant, everyone heard the screams, and all were broken to the core. 

In a swift jab off his wand (After many other flourishes refused to make the door budge), the door burst off of its hinges in front of Snape, as he swiftly strode in. Ron watched as he sent a stunner -- before the last piece of rubble hit the ground -- towards Umbridge, before he felt the spell holding him and Harry release its force.

Harry rushed in, sliding beside the twitching form of Hermione, as she coughed violently onto the floor, red specks covering the otherwise perfect carpeting. In a gentle movement, Harry had propped Hermione against the wall, where tears began to run down her face as she curled in upon herself. 

It was the look in her eyes, one of pure hopelessness, that broke him. He was beside her before he knew it, pulling her into a gentle hug. She shuddered viciously as Ron held her, tears welling up in his own eyes. A wet spot began to form in his shirt, but he didn’t let go until Umbridge was levitated out. With Ron taking her legs, both boys carefully picked her up, departing towards the direction of the hospital wing. It was only a few moments before her body went limp in their arms, a final shuddering breath escaping her lips before her breathing became steady.

 

* * *

 

**An Hour Later**

 

Things had gone from bad to terrible in just over an hour, and Sirius felt that ‘stress’ was too small of a word to properly explain how he was feeling. First, his Godson is seeing planted images of a bloody maniac torturing Sirius half to death -- which was thankfully fake. Then, Harry’s best friend Hermione was taken by an almost more malicious figure, and then  _ actually _ tortured for at least fifteen seconds. Over seven seconds under the cruciatus curse was hazardous to one’s health, and over twelve was… at least it was nowhere near the full minute that the Longbottom’s had endured. Repeatedly.

But then, came one final thing to absolutely ruin Sirius’s otherwise calm (except for the hurt hippogriff upstairs that he still blamed on Kreacher) day: Harry was briefly possessed.

The three of them, and Hermione’s unconscious form, were discussing the events of the day as Dumbledore briefly excused himself to receive and send various messages across Britain pertaining to the threat of Voldemort. 

Then Harry cried out in pain as he fell out of his chair. But as soon as the pain had begun, it was stopped. Harry, thankfully clutching the mirror tightly in his hands, dazedly pulled himself back into his seat, blinking the stars out of his eyes. 

“What the bloody hell just happened?” Sirius asked, his eyes frantically examining his Godson, who was subconsciously rubbing his scar.

A hand rested itself upon Sirius’s shoulder, causing him to look back at twinkling blue eyes that were peering into the mirror over half-moon spectacles. “Now that’s the question, isn’t it? Harry, does your scar hurt right now?” Dumbledore inquired calmly, a small smile tugging at the edges of his lips.

Harry looked like he was going to retort a sarcastic comment, but his eyebrows furrowed tightly before he shook his head. “No…” He answered, rubbing his scar in examination. “It doesn’t even have the slight sting that’s had for days…”

“Excellent.” Dumbledore smiled. “For I believe, Voldemort has just tried to possess you.”

“WHAT?” Three voices gasped simultaneously, causing Dumbledore to chuckle.

“You see, Voldemort, having seen that his plan to manipulate you into heading into the ministry had failed, was becoming desperate.” Dumbledore explained. “And in his desperation, he forced his way into your mind, most likely hoping to force you to finish yourself off. But one thing prevented him from fully penetrating your mind, causing him pain that was most unusual for him. It was the love for your friends,” he gestured to Ron, Hermione, and even Sirius, “that was at the forefront of your mind that forced him out upon his first second into your mind.”

Sirius looked at the old wizard like he was insane. “So you’re telling me that Voldy just tried to off my Godson by making him do it himself?”

“Precisely.”

He gawked at the man. “And what’s he going to do now?”

“Well, he will undoubtedly have an immense headache, which should restrict him from act--” A wolf patronus burst into the room, causing Dumbledore to faltar mid sentence. He received the message in private before returning by Sirius’s side, the twinkle quickly diminishing in his eyes. “Forget the headache. It seems that Voldemort has moved onto his next plan: a surprise assault of the Ministry.”

“WHAT?” Sirius, Ron, and Harry once again shouted simultaneously. 

Harry and Ron had begun to stand, grabbing their wands. Sirius saw the shaky movements of the mirror and panicked for a moment. “Stop!” He said hurriedly through the mirror before they could drop the connection. Harry raised an eyebrow in the mirror, looking rather miffed. “I know you want to fight, but it’s not your time yet.” The younger wizard still did not seem convinced. “And Hermione needs you. If she wakes up, it will mean the world to her if you’re by her side, even if she says otherwise.”

Harry’s shoulders slumped as he fell back into his chair, gesturing for Ron to do the same. “Fine…”

In the background, Ron could be heard unsuccessfully smothering his laughter. “So you’re telling me,” he sniggered, “that Sirius just played your hero card to make you stay out of the fight?”

“I don’t have a ‘hero card’.” Harry grumbled, tossing a glare towards the redhead. 

“Sirius is right.” Said Dumbledore as he began moving towards the fireplace. “Your battle for glory and justice will be achieved on another day. Whereas this battle is for me and Sirius.”

The animagus’s jaw dropped. “You’re letting me out of the house?”

“To fight a ton of cruel maniacs…” The scar-headed wizard said from the mirror. 

Sirius was in heaven. “The only thing that could make this better is if Bellatrix is there.” He had a few choice curses he desired to send her way. “We’ll be back later.”

“And possibly legally able to step foot in the infirmary yourself.” Dumbledore added, serving to only make Sirius’s day just a bit better. There was that whole ‘Voldemort attacking the Ministry’ thing, but as long as no one died, Sirius expected it could be a pretty good -- albeit terrible because of Voldemort -- turn of events if he did say so himself. 

“Then what are we waiting for, Albus? I have Death Eaters to hex.”

“I think he’s enjoying this too much.” Ron commented from the mirror before it shimmered back to a dull reflection.

 

* * *

 

Sirius stumbled out of the floo behind Dumbledore, his ears quickly becoming the receiver of hundreds of screams, cries, sobs, and shouts as he took in his surroundings. The world was lit with periodic flashes of lights, painting the faces of those pushing and shoving with different colors, the most prominent being red and green. Thankfully few noticed or cared that the ‘infamous mass murderer Sirius Black’ was standing in their way of the floo.

The dark walls that soared into the high ceiling of the atrium was beaten to bits. Rubble lay on the floor, some with a surrounding layer of red that seeped into frantic footprints that passed by. The fountain that stood as a symbol of magical cooperation was now fractured and broken, split into pieces that more closely resembled the affair of magical relations. Wands littered the floor here and there, causing a hazard. Sirius stepped over two and nearly tripped on a third as he ran to catch up with Dumbledore. 

“Now, what are the odds the aurors won’t start hexing me?” Sirius asked, the danger of the battle beginning to fully dawn on him.

Dumbledore barely paused to give a smile before seemingly gliding ahead at a speed that should have been impossible at his age. “I trust you in that aspect to win the favor of those of the light.”

“You put way too much faith in your fortune cookie nonsense.” Sirius muttered, mostly to himself. “I’d be better off knowing my lucky numbers.”

They were approaching where the intensity of the new lighting became almost unbearable, both Sirius and Dumbledore having to duck a few times as a jet of green shot towards their head and chest respectively. The animagus was beginning to regret his decision, thinking it would be much more fun to be berating Kreacher, when they turned the corner that lead to the centerpiece of the battle.

On one side, the light was flickering as aurors fell, some with blood, some with peace, and some with snores. Order members fought valiantly beside them, reviving those they could, firing spells when they could manage. But the light  _ was  _ flickering, as more fell, and less and less continued to stand back up.

But no one said the darkness was consuming the light. It was growing lighter as well, as certain Death Eaters fell, but more managed to rejoin their fellows than that of the light, who had started out with a majority, but had quickly dwindled to equals of the darkness. Many were maskless, the ghastly false faces littering the ground behind them, their laughter echoing across the cavern that was the atrium. 

And then there was Sirius Black. He could see the fear in the eyes of young Aurors, and hope in those of Order members. With a burst of red light from his wand tip, a Death Eater went down, and the light strengthened to a new height, an old friend having joined where he truly belonged. 

It was with a blind fury that the Death Eaters launched a volley of green. Sirius didn’t examine those that fell. All he could do was keep fighting, in the hope that the red would end the horror of green that had descended upon those he knew as friends.

A well timed shield charm placed by Sirius saved the life of Nymphadora Tonks, a decapitation hex hurtling back towards the darkness, a horrified screech, and a low thunk shuddering across the battlefield. Sirius stood with Tonks as they both shot spell after spell at Bellatrix Lestrange, forcing her back, her shield charm barely saving her from the horrors muttered by the animagus on a hunt for vengeance. Finally, with a well placed stunner, Sirius had brought her down, and the two moved onto their next target: Lucius Malfoy, whose mask had been blown off at some point in the battle. 

“It’s a pleasure, Sirius.” He drawled, blocking Sirius’s disarming spell. 

If Sirius hadn’t been fighting for his life, he would have had a certain hand gesture in mind. “Fuck you.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, Sirius. I thought your mother taught you manners.”

“She also taught me how to be a narcissistic git.” Sirius growled. “In case you haven’t noticed,” he jabbed sharply with his wand, an explosion destroying a large section that remained of the bottom of the pillar, “I never listened to her much. Heads up.”

A bewildered expression crossed Malfoy’s face before he looked back at the hunk of rock that had once belonged to the pillar fell on top of him, crushing him into unconsciousness. And then Sirius kicked him in the head for good measure. “And that,” Sirius barely resisted the urge to lift the rubble to kick him in the groin, “is why you don’t hurt my friends, you bastard!”

“You did great.” Tonks said, panting as the last of the Death Eaters were dealt with. “I’m gonna… sit down…”

“Shouldn’t you be detaining the Death Eaters…?”

Tonks waved him off. “They’ll be there in a couple minutes--”

Her eyes widened as they looked at something behind him, causing him to turn around to see the body of Voldemort rushing to the ground, before he slowly righted himself, a dusty glass orb in his hand. “Is that the best you can do, old man?”

In a flash of phoenix fire, Dumbledore appeared in the atrium, his wand spinning as his blue eyes stared on, the twinkle gon. “Not in the slightest, Tom. But it has been over fifty years since you’ve gotten me a Christmas gift, and I know just what I want.”

A flash of green jut out in the direction of Dumbledore, who quickly sidestepped it. “What are you blabbering on about?” Voldemort hissed, a fiery dragon erupting from his wand.

Dumbledore conjured a phoenix of water, which quickly pinned the dragon before scooping Voldemort himself up, tossing him around inside until it burst, crashing to the ground.

And Sirius saw his chance. Taking aim, he sent the most powerful reductor curse he could towards the exposed prophecy, shattering it in an instant. 

An enraged hiss was expelled from Voldemort, who in a angry turn, disappeared into his cloak, a few other Death Eaters -- who had all been restrained or unconscious -- disappearing as well. One of these said Death Eaters was Bellatrix Lestrange. But thankfully, to Sirius at least, one Death Eater of importance was unable to slip away: Lucius Malfoy.

 

* * *

 

**Twenty Minutes Later**

 

The wounded were tended to, the dead were taken away, but no one even attempted to make repairs to the Atrium. There were too many shocks to the systems of the aurors for one day, and Sirius didn’t blame them one bit. All in one day, they discovered Voldemort was back, they were attacked by his followers, they learned Lucius Malfoy was one of said followers, and they learned Sirius Black was not. The entire Ministry had earned a breather.

Order members congratulated him, as well as a few aurors who “always knew he was innocent”. But Sirius took no notice, only wanting to be proven innocent by those who mattered so that he could rush immediately to Hogwarts. He had a Godson to hug.

It was barely a minute after he had finally taken a seat, that two voices cut through the tense atmosphere that surrounded the Atrium.

A shaking voice began to grow louder as the wizard’s words stumbled out of his mouth. “So… So you’re telling me… You-Know-Who… oh h-heavens!”

“Yes, Minister, for the sixth time.” Another gruff voice said calmly to the shaking one.

Two figures rounded the corner, and it was easy to match which voice belonged to which form. The hardened voice was obviously owned by the man with hair that seemed to resemble the mane of a lion. His cold, yet serious, eyes seemed to be unmoving, completely focused on the problem at hand: the mumbling, babbling Minister. Cornelius Fudge, who was unfortunately the Minister of Magic, was the home of the nearly incoherent voice. The Minister was a stout, little man, who was visibly shaking from the news he had been given five minutes previously -- and had been rehashing with himself ever since. 

The Minister continued on in a daze, until he stumbled in front of the grinning animagus Panicked, he stiffened and seemed to let out a small yelp. “S-S-SIRIUS BLACK!” He nearly screamed. He looked around at the few aurors that were still standing, a look of utter bewilderment cast over his face. “IS NO ONE GOING TO ARREST HIM?” He continued to gawk at the rest of the people in the room who refused to move towards the man they were crediting for saving the day (Although Sirius hardly believed that). It was when a familiar voice cleared their throat, that Fudge once again stiffened. “Don’t start with this Dumbledore! I’ve already been having a very bad day! First I get an owl telling me that Dolores used an unforgivable on a student! So I rushed up to Hogwarts where she confessed to it  _ without _ Veritasium! Then, while at Hogwarts, I get  _ another _ owl telling me that You-Know-Who was attacking the Ministry!”

Dumbledore peered over his spectacles with a slimmer of amusement showing on his face. “I’m sorry, Minister, but it seems that Sirius Black is innocent.” The look on Fudge’s face was hard to judge, but it looked as if out of all the emotions that were spilling onto the canvas of his face, anger was rising to the very top. Dumbledore most likely would have let Fudge shout himself hoarse if there weren’t many problems that had to be solved immediately. So he quickly cut off the stuttering statement that was glowing in the Minister’s eyes, ready to be released. “I believe about twenty eyewitnesses would be able to tell you all about the heroic deeds of the last heir of the Noble House of Black,” Dumbledore added the title, so as to continue to politically back Fudge into a corner even more.

The anger had won. In a stuttering shout, the words propelling out of his mouth and blasting off the dark and damaged walls of the atrium, “B-BUT WHAT ABOUT-- WHAT ABOUT THE STREET  _ FULL _ OF WITNESSES TH-THAT SAW HIM MURDER P-PETER PET-PETTIGREW?” The remaining Ministry officials were taken aback with shock, but still found it rather amusing, considering Dumbledore just smiled at Fudge.

“I think I can help with that!” Another voice called from around the fountain, a body levitating over the damaged structure.

 

* * *

 

**Before The Attack**

 

Remus Lupin scowled at the fountain, forcing himself not to dismantle it with a quick jab of his wand. If there was ever an object that Remus could ever hate almost more than he hated his affliction, it would be the fountain.  _ The Fountain of Magical Brethren, _ it was called, but it in no way was an accurate representation of the society created by wizards, the obvious ruling class. 

Without a care of whether anyone was around him, he performed a gesture that most would probably slap him for had they seen him, but thankfully many were too busy to be aware of the werewolf.

Every week since he quit his job at Hogwarts, Remus had continued to wander into the Ministry in hopes of being able to apply for any type of work that could give him an adequate pay that could sustain him. But due to the prejudices built and molded by the wizard society -- a society he was both included in and shunned from -- especially Dolores Umbridge, the new ‘Headmistress of Hogwarts’. Ever since she had passed certain legislations prohibiting the right of werewolves, it had become almost impossible to get a job if the word ‘werewolf’ is even mentioned in the interview.

Thankfully, however, that was not the reason that Remus found himself in the Ministry on that fateful day. It would be instead -- mostly due to the push offered by Sirius -- to pick up Tonks to go out to eat. It wasn’t a date, or at least that was what Remus was telling himself, but he was still excited at the idea. 

And so he moved towards the lifts, watching the bricks go by as he descended down the Ministry, paper airplanes hovering just above his head. With a ding, the doors slowly opened, allowing him to depart in the direction of the Auror department.

He received an equal mix of greetings and glares, mostly dependent on the givers position on werewolves. Due to the almost excessive amount of times Remus had to visit the Ministry, he was nearly on a first name basis with over half of the workers. His quickly blossoming relationship with Tonks only helped to quicken his familiarity with the Aurors. 

Kingsley nodded his approval as Remus headed in the direction of Tonks. He seemed to be barely restraining himself from clapping Remus on the back, if the twitch in his hand and his feet were any indication. 

The werewolf quickly found the only person with shocking bubble-gum pink hair, and sat at the chair across from her as she worked. “Nice day?” He smirked.

“Brilliant.” Tonks replied, dotting her last ‘i’ on her paperwork before folding it up and sending it flying across the department. “I spotted four Death Eaters today -- in the Daily Prophet that is.”

“You still get that?” 

“It’s nice to see how the other ninety percent lives.” Tonks said, grabbing her wand and bag before standing from her chair.

Remus chuckled. “You mean oblivious to certain going ons in the world?” Tonks rolled her eyes as she nodded, leading him out of the department (Kingsley was still nodding in approval).

“Where are you taking me for dinn--” She stopped abruptly as a rare sound passed through the department and the rest of the Ministry.

Alarms echoed off of the high walls, creating a whiplash effect of never ending sound. Flames sparked near the ceiling in a brilliant flash of deep red, closely resembling the color of blood. “Warning!” The same voice that operated in the lifts called out. “The Ministry is under attack by unknown hostiles! All non combatants please proceed to the nearest secure apparition and floo points! All emergency combatants please proceed to the Atrium!” The message repeated on a loop as the fire continued to spark overhead, signalling a code red evacuation.

“You don’t think--” Remus began.

“He’s got balls, I’ll give him that!” Tonks said as she began rushing towards the stairs, not bothering to try the lifts which were undoubtedly overcrowded. “Is little Lupin coming to fight off the Dark Lord?” She pouted, barely managing to run backwards.

Lupin began to hurry after her. “Of course I’m--” A familiar sent, a familiar form, moved swiftly out of the corner of his eye, scurrying in the opposite direction of everything else. “I’ll catch up.” He called to Tonks, who raised an eyebrow before shrugging as she ascended the stairs (Tripping only twice).

Quickly following the scampering shadow towards its destination, he came upon the door that lead into the office of the Head Auror. As it was around a corner from where he had originally set off from, he had not seen the perpetrator force the door open, wiping it clear off of its hinges. Carefully stepping over the wreckage, Remus smiled at the back of the too-familiar form.

Standing at the back of the office, rummaging through the first file cabinet that had been forced open as well, was the stout figure of Peter Pettigrew. He looked much worse for wear, with patches of his hair either being missing or looking as if they wished they could die. His entire body was trembling as he searched for a specific file, finally grasping it in his hands. 

Turning around triumphantly, he was stunned by the sight of the calm werewolf that stood in front of him, who, with his lip curling deviously, magically stunned the culprit before he could slip away as a rat. Placing a few anti-animagus spells on him just in case he was able to wake up, he levitated his limp body out the door, chuckling a little bit as his head slammed into the door. Remus looked at his prize for a few minutes as the battle rage on upstairs, not wanting to interfere and somehow let Peter escape once again. 

After the sounds of the battle had died away for a while, he marched up the stairs, carefully levitating the body, once again laughing as his head bumped up every step. The rat deserved more, but a minor concussion would have to do for the time being. 

Forcing himself not to whoop in pure joy at the sight of the demolished fountain, he heard the traveling conversation that was happening on just the other side.

“B-BUT WHAT ABOUT-- WHAT ABOUT THE STREET  _ FULL _ OF WITNESSES TH-THAT SAW HIM MURDER P-PETER PET-PETTIGREW?” He could hear the Minister of Magic babble along angrily. 

“I can help with that.” Remus grinned as he moved Peter’s body around the fountain, spinning it magically in its spot as if on display. The Minister gaped at the limp figure, his eyes moving from the man’s face, to his hands, and then finally to Sirius Black, where his face hardened into a war between denial and acceptance. 

A few minutes later (And a rather disgusted Auror), the finger found on the street after Sirius’s confrontation of Peter was magically matched to the floating figure before them, and the Minister giving an audible gulp. “C-can someone get some Veritasium? And can someone get working on the papers for the immediate declaration of innocence for Sirius Black, as well as… er… compensation?” The Minister rubbed his forehead with his eyes closed. “And can someone get me a stiff drink?”

Sirius Black was free by early the next morning. 

**Author's Note:**

> Wasn't too bad, right? Chapters are about 4,000 words (Or more like this one if that's how it happens to break up), and I'm looking at fifty-ish chapters or so if all goes well (Or until I lose the last inch of sanity I still possess; whichever first). Constructive criticism appreciated!


End file.
